Watching You
by Basil-Ovelby
Summary: A little flashback to Smithers' childhood and his relationship with Mr. Burns. Rather fluffy.


Because these two need more stuff about them, I decided to write up a random little fic. Inspired mainly by the Blunder Years episode – seeing Smithers as an adorable baby made me want to write him as a little kid. Sorry if this doesn't have a whole lot of a point, but I've been in a rather fluffy mood lately, and it doesn't help that I was listening to Casper's Lullaby while writing this.

Oh, and not that this fic accomplishes this at all (I don't believe I'm a good enough writer to attempt it while still keeping everyone in character, I mean... yea, it would be hard, ahaha), but who here agrees that Smithers seriously needs to get some love one of these days? He so deserves it!

But anyway, enough rambling.

Watching You

By Basil-Ovelby

Charles Montgomery Burns wasn't having a good day. It had started that morning when a trio of suited men had invaded the plant, making a big deal out of a few, so-called "safety violations." It hadn't bothered him too much, but after being followed by an estranged worker offering him Chinese food and the sun melting every one of the ice cubes in his water glass, he was beginning to feel a bit down. Thus he sat with the door to his office locked and three sets of curtains blocking the window.

Furiously, he scribbled something down on the piece of paper in front of him, eyebrows furrowed as the tip of his writing utensil abruptly snapped.

"Damnation! Can't someone compose a letter around here? They just don't make these like they used to..." He tossed the quill into the trashcan beside him.

After staring at the paper in front of him for a few minutes, he pushed himself away from his desk with a sigh. All this doing nothing was more frustrating than it was most other days. He decided that he could risk leaving his office for a bit. Maybe he could take a walk around the plant without some other annoying hindrance rearing its head.

He walked over to his door and, with an excruciating amount of effort, managed to turn the brass lock above the handle. Once unlocked, he swung open the door.

"Mr. Burns!"

He immediately shut the door. "Ahaha, well, enough exercise for one day. That traipse has left me quite out of breath." He began to walk back to his desk, but was interrupted as the door was opened again behind him.

"Mr. Burns?"

He scowled, but didn't turn around. "Yes, yes, what do you want?"

There wasn't an answer. Finally, Burns turned around to see the owner of the voice looking up at him with timid eyes, his hand still clutching the door knob. The boy looked down at the ground, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "I, er, well..."

Burns massaged his forehead in annoyance. "Spit it out you blubbering fool, I haven't got all day."

The boy bit his lip. "I just wanted to see you."

"Yes, well, if everyone who wanted to see me everyday saw me then nothing would ever get done!" He raised his hands to emphasize his point. "I'm a very busy man. I do lots of work-related things, like..." he glanced over at his desk. "...writing laws!"

The boy continued to just look up at him, so he turned around and began heading for his desk. "Besides, where's your mother?"

"At work."

"Well, why aren't you at school?"

There was a slight pause. "I didn't want to go."

Burns grimaced and sat down at his desk. "Dee-lightful."

There was a rather awkward silence... that lasted five minutes.

Burns continued to stare ahead of him. "If you're going to come in, then do so, you nescient urchin. You're letting in a horrible draft."

The boy smiled and stepped all the way inside the office, pushing the door closed.

Burns leaned forward. "But I don't want to hear any more of this 'idle chatter.' I have horrendous amounts of work to finish."

The boy nodded and simply walked over to a vacant chair, pulling himself into it. He sat silently.

Burns shifted his eyes, looking across his desk. He inwardly cursed realizing he had absolutely nothing to do. He pulled a blank piece of paper out of his drawer and set it in front of him. Looking around once more, he found a strange contraption sitting next to a pile of paper clips. He pulled it towards him and examined it, but couldn't decide what it was.

"You! Boy! What is this outlandish contraption?"

"A stapler, sir."

"Don't lie to me, boy, I know a paper fastener when I see one." He pushed his paper under the top of the stapler and pressed down. "Remarkable! Look at the tiny pin!" He began stapling the entire paper.

This continued on for about an hour. Burns' arm finally grew so tired that he couldn't press the stapler down anymore. He looked past his desk to find the boy still sitting there, just smiling and watching him.

"Blast, I had hoped you'd left."

He idly tapped his fingers on the desk.

"Go fetch me some coffee."

"Yes, sir." The boy stood up quickly and made his way out the door. Burns grinned to himself, settling back comfortably in his chair.

After about five minutes, the boy returned, carefully carrying a very full cup of coffee. He slowly walked over to the desk, trying his hardest not to spill. He made it over to Burns' desk and set the coffee down in front of him. "Here you are, sir."

Burns eyed him for a second before snatching the cup. "Back to your chair!"

The boy smiled and walked back to the chair, plopping down on it. His legs didn't reach the floor, so he just swung them back and forth happily.

Burns tentatively took a sip from the cup. When it tasted fine, he felt himself cheer up a little bit. A knock from the door, however, and he was crabby once more.

A man stuck his head past the door.

"You forgot to lock the door!" He hissed towards the boy. "Welcome! Ahaha, what can I do for you?"

The man walked all the way in. "Sorry to interrupt you, but there seems to be some sort of riot going on downstairs. I believe the vending machines are eating people's money."

Burns waved his hand. "Pish-posh. A riot? Must you really inform me of all these trivial nuisances? I've better things to do with my time."

A chair flew past the door. "Um... it's really... really starting to get out of hand." The man nervously glanced around him.

"Must I do _everything_ for you, you blundering imbeciles?" Burns sighed in annoyance and glanced around the room. "Fine, fine... Smithers, take care of it."

There was a rather confused silence, the other two in the room just looking at him. Finally, the boy stood up, smiling. "Yes, sir." He walked over to the door and led the man out.

Thus, the rest of the day continued in very much the same fashion. Whenever Burns needed something done, he would just ask the boy to do it, whether it be alphabetizing his phone messages or rewiring his surveillance monitors. The rest of the time, they would just sit in the office... doing nothing.

That night, as he was lying in bed, Burns couldn't help but think back to what a pleasant day he'd had. He'd done nothing, but had been productive at the same time! This was quite different from most other days.

He turned and prepared to lean over towards the light switch.

"Gah! What are you doing here?"

The boy stood in the doorway. He chewed on his lip. "Well, you brought me here to make dinner, and then you had me feed the hounds, answer all your messages, change you into your nightgown, and put you to bed."

Burns scratched his chin. "Oh yes, I'd forgotten." He waved his hand. "Ah well, you can go home now." He settled down into his bed, facing the other way. "Oh, and turn off the lantern, could you?"

The boy reached up and switched the light off, blanketing the room in darkness. He then stood there for a few moments, not really sure what to do. Finally, he leaned up against the wall and slid down until he was seated, hugging his knees with his arms. He couldn't really go home... he wasn't about to walk who-knows-how many blocks back to his house in the dark. Just the thought gave him the creeps. He was only eight, after all. The thought of walking back through this enormous mansion in the dark was already scary enough.

And so, he just sat there, forehead resting on his knees.

After some time, he still hadn't gotten to sleep. He turned his head so that his cheek was resting on his knee and he could look towards Burns' bed. He heard a slight snore come from the old man and smiled.

Without even thinking much, he got to his feet and walked over to the bed, setting his glasses on the nightstand, and hoisting himself up. He crawled under the covers, burying his head in the pillows.

Burns instinctively turned towards him and, apparently finding the small shape comforting, pulled him closer. "Bobo..."

The boy smiled, feeling the happiest he'd felt in quite some time.

------

23 Years Later

------

"Is that all you'll be needing, sir?"

"Yes, yes, that should be all. It's been a trying day."

"It certainly has, sir. No one took well to those security cameras in the bathroom stalls."

"Heh heh, yes, indeed." Burns settled down in his bed, clutching his bear to him. "Well, I'm going to bed now. Goodnight, Smithers."

"Goodnight, sir." He clicked off the light. With a small sigh, he turned to go, but for some reason, he didn't move. He just stood there.

The darkness seemed to settle around him. Soon, he was able to see most of the shapes of the furniture in the room. The light of the moon from the window cast shadows on the walls.

He didn't know why he wasn't leaving. He did every other night. There wasn't anything special about tonight... just the fact that, well, he didn't want to leave. Not that he ever really wanted to leave...

He looked behind him and made out the shape of a chair, sitting down. It felt really weird, sitting there in the dark. It seemed strangely surreal.

He sat there for quite some time, just staring into the room. When he felt that he wouldn't be able to stay awake much longer, he scooted his chair closer to the bed. Smiling, he looked down at the form of his boss sleeping under the covers.

He couldn't explain why he loved him anymore than he could explain why he was still sitting here. He just knew that he did. That was all that mattered.

Silently, he leaned forward, resting his arms and head on the mattress. With a happy sigh, he closed his eyes, almost immediately being ushered into sleep.

"I love you, sir."


End file.
